Ch 6 - The Weight of Destiny

Thick silence permeated the residence of the High Lord of the Guild of Imardin. The late hours had already passed and night had descended upon the land long before, leaving most of the lights in the building extinguished but one. In that room, wood-panelled walls were filled with tapestries and pictures, bookshelves pressed close in on each other, laden with volumes on all manner of topics ranging from the trade practices of the Vin to the proud traditions of the Lonmar and a thick pile carpet covered the floor. Several chairs surrounded one large table, almost a desk, that dominated a whole side of the room, an antique lamp taking up one full corner of the burnished wood tabletop. The remaining spare room on the table's surface was covered with scrolls, manuscripts, tubes, paper in various sizes and the elbows of two magicians.

"This doesn't seem to have any proper information in it at all!" Dannyl gasped in exasperation, pushing a manuscript aside with a huff. He sat back in his chair, rubbed his eyes and turned to regard Sonea who was seated across from him. "I found my work, but this," he held up the tube from the mysterious Elynian, "This does seem to imply we should have an easy time finding Akkarin's other source. And," a sigh, "We've been here for hours." Rolling his eyes, he craned his neck to stare up at the ceiling.

With sympathy clearly written in her gaze, Sonea regarded Dannyl's chin since his head was tipped backwards. When he looked back down, she smiled weakly. "It does seem to, doesn't it." Placing one hand on the book she'd been perusing seconds before, a quirk of her lips twisted that smile into a thoughtful frown. "We've poked and prodded through so many volumes, the shelves are nearly bare. I can't hardly find a single thing of worth here," she jabbed a finger at her stack of texts, "And I know you're not having any luck either. None of this seems," she paused, struggling to find the right word, balling her fists on the table, "Personal enough." Unclenching her fists, she shrugged, turning to Takan who had taken a seat near the wall and was staring out the window into the vastness of the darkened Guild grounds. "Takan?"

Turning with an unsettling grace, the servant held Sonea's gaze for a quick moment before bobbing his head in a small bow. "My lady?"

Struggling to keep from smiling at the deference, Sonea replied, "Dannyl and I are, regrettably, having little luck. If you had any insight, we would love some assistance?" She phrased it as a question, hoping to illicit his help. If anyone could tell them where Akkarin had kept a book or manuscript he wanted no one else to find, surely it would be his faithful servant, Takan.

Takan's brow scrunched in an uncharacteristic gesture of deep thought. His lips pressed tightly and he stood, standing momentarily to stretch before approaching the two frustrated magicians. "I am unsure of what, particularly, Akkarin meant for you to find, Lady." A whisper of an exhale escaped and he continued, "But, I do not think it would anything left out deliberately. Remember that they searched the residence when he was," Takan flushed mildly but kept on, "accused of slaying Lord Dalin's family and servants. Nothing proscribed would have been left behind. Yet..." he paused, pressing his hands together before him, "I do not believe that the volume he describes would have been anything to catch their attention either. If the other magicians did not, I believe that you will." Now he specifically trained his gaze on Sonea, startling her with the frankness of his gaze. "Somehow, I know you will succeed, my Lady." A rare smile turned up the corners of his lips. "And I think I will merely be in the way. Please ask again if you think I may be of any specific assistance. For now, I think, I shall return to my chair and my view." He bowed and withdrew, leaving Sonea confused but reassured.

Sonea found Dannyl staring at her from across the table. "What?"

"Nothing," he replied, grinning widely at her. "You have a most remarkable look on your face, is all." Before she could respond, he added, "And now I think I shall remove myself from this chair before it becomes stuck to me permanently. Takan," he called, getting the servant's immediate attention, "Would you mind terribly if we found something to drink in the kitchen? I fear I'd never be able to find any such thing on my own..." Dannyl tossed Sonea a quick wink before giving Takan his attention.

Takan rose and bowed, "Of course, Lord Dannyl. If you will follow me please?" and, with a knowing glance in Sonea's direction, he led Dannyl from the room and down the stairs to the kitchen.

When the two were gone, Sonea closed her eyes as the silence pressed in on her again. They had been in the study for hours, feeling as though they were missing something or overlooking something obvious and all the further they'd gotten was to make a mess and create several piles of books that were complete irrelevant to the subject at hand. It had seemed a simple thing at the time to walk into the study and merely pick up whatever they needed and suddenly have all the answers. Both of them had thought the most difficult part would be convincing Balkan! Yet he had acquiesced almost too easily. Renewed frustration forced her lips into a distinctive frown and she opened her eyes, half expecting to see the High Lord standing over her with a malicious grin. It was too easy to imagine Balkan having already secreted away the volume they wanted, but she knew if, as Takan said, the higher magicians did not find it, then the new High Lord could not have found it either.

Rising from her chair, Sonea shook the stiffness from her legs and wandered to the nearest shelf. Laying a hand on one of the volumes they had not perused yet, she ran a finger over its spine and the spines of the books nearest it. Some of the volumes were freakishly large, too tall to fit a regular shelf so they had been placed flat instead. Others were so small it was hard to call them a book. In one case, Dannyl had come across a bound copy of hand-written notes, but the excitement of the find soon dwindled when they saw it contained nothing more than records of the plantings and gardens of the Servants' Quarters and the Healers' Gardens. The books ranged in age from the crisp and new to the old and tattered. Neither of them had any idea what their volume would look like, they would only know it once it had been found.

Sparing a glance for the night sky outside, Sonea put a hand to the necklace hidden beneath her robes. She had not been haunted by voices - the voice, she corrected herself - in days. Maybe nothing sinister was happening, she thought wryly, Maybe I'm only losing my mind. A short laugh escaped in spite of itself, filling the room loudly. Looking around to make sure no one was around to hear or see, she relaxed slightly and pulled the metal chain and its large-ish burden out into the open for the first time since putting it on.

The twists and turns of the metal had a very insect-like appearance. Cery had told her it was an "inava", meant to bestow luck upon its wearer. He'd said that she was likely to need it, more so than he. Sonea had to concede that he was probably right. Even now as she stared down at the little filigreed bits and pieces she had to smile. It was quite beautiful but, of course, Cery would have access to all the best metalsmiths and jewelers, in his current position of power. Her fingers slipped over the hidden gems and a catch in her throat strangled the breath she was about to take. Forcing the feelings away again, she reminded herself that now was not the time to get "womanly". Something about the feeling, however, gave her pause. If the voice she'd heard was indeed Akkarin and he'd gone through all this trouble to preserve himself somehow and now needed her help, she wondered if that didn't go both ways. Once again looking down at the pendant hanging loosely atop her robes, she pressed one hand over it closed her eyes, concentrating on her feelings, on the life hidden within her, on Akkarin and his final moments and on their twin need. And then she began to walk.

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A single, green-tinged mage globe hovered over Dannyl and Takan's heads in the kitchen a floor away from the study. The room was otherwise dark, but Dannyl could make out the cupboards, the countertops, the island in the middle of the room and various other paraphinalia that belonged in a kitchen. Smiling down into his cup, he watched the golden liquid swirl around and around, a ring of tiny bubbles clinging to the glass. "What did you call this again, Takan?" he inquired.

"Pachi Harvest, is its official name, Lord Dannyl," the man replied in the soft tones Dannyl had come to expect from him. He was not loud yet his voice seemed to carry beyond the expectation. "It is a wine made in a different way from the pachi fruit. I suspect they have added something to the process, but wine-making is not one of my passions." He regarded Dannyl expectantly but found the magician was staring down into the glass.

"It's quite tart for a wine. Interesting. I'll have to procure a bottle to share with the Elyne's. Likely this will drive them wild with curiosity." He looked up and caught Takan watching him, "Anything for a little curiosity's sake in Elyne, you know?" Though the servant gave no response, he added, "So what is your opinion, then? Surely you must be able to help us more than you have?" His tone was hopeful.

Shaking his head before even replying, Takan shrugged. "I made Akkarin promise never to confide his secrets to me, to give me no more knowledge than I had already. I suspect this is one of those things and he always honored my wishes. No, Lord Dannyl, I am as in the dark as you. I fear Sonea is the only one who has the hope of finding what is needed for she is the one with the connections required." He took a sip from his cup but looked thoughful nevertheless.

"Sonea then," Dannyl nodded knowingly. He had suspected as much. Not that he had expected Balkan to give up so easily, for that was terribly uncharacteristic of the Balkan he knew, but he'd known from the beginning that Sonea would get her way in this. If the Guild had been more receptive of Akkarin when he was first accused, much suffering could have been avoided. Sighing inwardly, he had to admit the quest he was on now was a direct bit of particulate from that storm of wreckage the Ichani had unleashed upon Imardin. Without Akkarin none of this would have happened, but with him they had perservered. And now, without him again, they were vulnerable. The Guild was making concessions, though not fast enough. He was worried, along with everyone else and Elyne as well, that the Ichani were far from conquered. After all, if Akkarin might be able to cheat death with black magic, what could the Ichani do! No, that thought was too frightening to even speak it aloud. He knew that thought to be the foremost in his mind and likely had swayed Balkan to consider what he would not otherwise have considered. Legions of reborn Ichani sitting on their border just waiting...

Takan cleared his throat, shaking Dannyl from his reverie and followed the servant's gaze to the doorway. A teary-eyed Sonea stood in the entrance to the kitchen, staring into the room at the two men. "I..." she began as Dannyl rushed to her side. His eyes caught a glimpse of a something necklace-like clasped in her hand over the top of her robes and a small, unadorned volume in the other. Seeing the worry blossom in his eyes, she tried to smile and wound up sniffing. "It seems we were looking in the wrong place."

Looking from the volume to Sonea and back to Takan and then Sonea again, Dannyl swallowed down the unease fluttering in the cage of his chest and exhaled. "Alright then, back to the study. It looks like we're about to confront Balkan with some uncomfortable truths."

Sonea nodded and left the way she'd come. He could hear her sniffs recede back up the stairs and watched the empty doorway for a moment more. Without turning, he added, "Wake the High Lord, please, Takan. Tell him we need to speak with him right away. Sonea and I will await him in the study." And without waiting for confirmation, he followed after Sonea, his treads light upon the stairs.

A few seconds later, another set of footsteps, barely audible, followed behind him. When he turned into the study, he caught sight of Takan continue on down the hallway to the High Lord's chambers. Taking a deep breath, he settled himself into a chair next to Sonea and watched as she looked down at the book. The pendant was nowhere in sight. Let her have her secrets, he thought. Soon, we'll all have a few more...

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A timing candle burned brightly in its wall sconce, marking the first hour of morning. No sounds filtered in from the floor below the High Lord's room or from the study just down the hallway, a few rooms away. Outside, night held sway over the Guild and the city in which it was built and those who felt more comfortable under the guise of night were happily awake and busy.

Lord Balkan, High Lord of the Guild, found the night uncomfortable at best. He had never been an easy sleeper, but when faced with recent consequences, sleep had become his enemy and rest was ellusive. Knowing about the research going on under his roof, recently Akkarin's roof he reminded himself, he'd known better than attempting sleep. Instead, he sat perched in a chair next to his beside, wrapped in the warmth of a reber-wool robe. Beneath, he still wore his robes of office, acknowledging they would likely be needed again tonight (or morning) and not wanting to waste the time in on changing for comfort's sake. No, he preferred to remain uncomfortable right now. It suited his thoughts quite well. If he could not sleep and he could not quiet his thoughts, then he would remain physically as well as mentally and emotionally put out.

Sighing, he closed the book on his lap and ceased trying to distract himself. Nothing was liable to ease the tension in his head. Food and wine had eased the pounding ache in his skull earlier, but the tension still remained. It sat like a net, draped over his head, pressing on all the sensitive spots and kept him from concentrating.

A knock at the door all but unsettled his meal from his stomach and his backside from the chair. Grumbling aloud at the abrupt disruption and the immediate discomfort it caused, he called, "Come in Takan."

The door eased open and the man slipped into the room. Balkan took a moment to appreciate his stealth and propriety. It was no wonder Akkarin had kept him all those years. "What news have you? Presumably Sonea and Dannyl have something for me?" He had hoped not, yet undeniably knew once Sonea had decided on something it took all the force in the Guild to turn her away. Not even gangs of novices could deny her studies nor hordes of magicians force her to like the Guild.

Seeing the servant nod, for no other reply was needed, the High Lord stood up and removed the blanket from his shoulders, placing the book on his bedside table. "Inform them I'll be a moment, please."

The door closed as quietly as it had opened and Balkan stared down at the whiteness of the robes covering his body. No stains. Heaving a sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and centered himself, breathing in and out in a quick mental exercise. When he had sufficiently calmed himself, he opened his eyes and strode for the door, emptying his thoughts of everything but the will to survive whatever his magicians had found. He only hoped he, the Guild and Imardin were ready.

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If he had expected confusion, clamor and a feverish moving of bodies and books and such back and forth, the look on the High Lord's face showed no disappointment as he entered, a few moments later as Takan had promised. Sonea had taken care of the teary mess she'd been not so long ago but had resisted Dannyl's attempts to coax the story out of her as to how and where she had found the tome. Finally, he had relented and she could focus on what now needed to be done. Balkan must be convinced.

Standing, as Dannyl and Takan had at Balkan's entry, all three bowed to the High Lord and Sonea motioned to the chair opposite her at the table. Dannyl had taken a place to her right and Takan was back in his seat near the window, casually peering out as though nothing of import were going on behind him. "Good morning, High Lord. I hope we did not pull you from anything important."

Balkan tossed a wry glance her direction and placed his hands on the empty table. "Sonea, I wasn't sleeping. How could I sleep when you're constantly dropping mysteries in my lap? You make me regret accepting my title, young lady, but this is not a discussion to have now. What have you found?" He eyed the book in front of her and the collection of folders, leaflets and notations in front of Dannyl.

"This is the Hi... Akkarin's personal diary," Sonea corrected herself, maintaining painfully direct eye contact with Balkan.

He could not keep surprise from registering on his face. "Diary?!" Balkan and Dannyl said at the same time.

A small smile pulled at the corner of Sonea's mouth at the twin reactions. "Yes, diary. Lorlen had once said Akkarin had a diary but that Akkarin claimed to have lost it or some such. Apparently he either started a new one or lied. I believe he lied," she said but hastily added, on seeing Balkan's face, "But I believe he had good reason. Black magic was proscribed. He could not allow Lorlen or any else to discover his researches. This book holds many truths and also several speculations. I believe it is a combination of both that we were looking for."

Balkan fell silent and Dannyl had long since sat back. Takan, however, had looked over and was regarding the trio with interest. Sonea saw him out of the corner of her eye but chose not to include him until he offered to include himself. Balkan broke the silence first. "And in reading this diary, will any of us be learning black magic?" He spoke steadily, authoritatively, but Sonea read the nervousness in his posture, the way he clasped his hands together on the table in front of him.

She nodded, "Perhaps you would if you had some knowledge of what Akkarin was referring to. Most likely, however, you would only learn that he definitively knew about the practices. No, this is no lesson book. Those books you have already, though they are not helpfully written." Pausing in thought, Sonea decided to add, "However, if you would prefer not to know the details, I can simply tell you about the important parts."

Dannyl, she saw, had taken to chewing on his lower lip as he often did when thoughtful. Balkan looked between her and Dannyl and finally nodded. "So long as you confirm and agree that we will not be learning anything proscribed..." seeing her about to interrupt, he corrected himself, "Or perhaps currently proscribed, since we have no way of knowing what will befall us after all the business is done. Will you agree to that?"

"Yes, High Lord." Relief flooded her entire body but, knowing she was nowhere near finished, she sat straighter and steeled her resolve. "I promise not to teach you, Dannyl or Takan anything currently proscribed." Seeing all three relax visibly, she smiled and gathered the small book to her. When Balkan nodded, she began, "The most important thing you know already that pertains to our current dilemma is the concept of the blood gems and power storing gems that "black magic" can create. Akkarin made several in his lifetime and it is clearly stated that they become useless when the maker dies. I am in possession of two of his rings and Takan has a third." Finding her audience enrapt, she continued, "I cannot teach you how to make them, but I will tell you what you need. You need blood or some other bodily substance that is part of your living being and you need an understanding of black magic. That is it."

"Am I correct then," Balkan interjected after a moment of pause, "That you have the ring he made for Lorlen? And may I assume he made a ring for you?"

"You are correct on both counts, High Lord," she replied. Seeing him nod, once more she continued, "It struck Akkarin during his travels to find ancient magic, of which we are all aware so I need not explain his reasonings, that life and magic are all but intertwined for magicians. When you remove the connection between them, you have a dead magician. No one can bring back a person from the dead, our teachings tell us. However," here she paused, gathering herself and her confidence, "Akkarin found or suspected that the ancient societies had discovered such a way..." A gasp arose from Dannyl, but no one wanted to speak. It was one thing to suspect, another thing to know such a terrible thing was possible.

"It was thought that, in times of great need, magicians could be preserved and returned to flesh, but," Sonea stopped, caught by a sudden stab of sadness.

"But what, Sonea," Dannyl asked, despite his best wishes to remain silent. The look on her face was terrible to behold.

"But... only in two ways." Her gaze flickered to Takan and back, but so quickly no one noticed but him. The look on his face was guarded, or at least more guarded than usual. She could make nothing of his expression so heaved a great sigh and continued. "The beginning of both ways is the same. Have the intended create a power storing gem in a specific way that imprinted a sense of 'themself' into it. It was not a gem that another could wear because it gave the wearer access to the maker in unusual ways. Akkarin has a note about accessing the soul. He wrote that it had... great potential for misuse."

"I'll say," Balkan snorted, but waved her on. His face was as unreadable as Takan's but Sonea could make easy guesses about the affect her words were having.

"When the intended dies, he knows where he has hidden his gem and sends his... or her soul into it. It will remain there for only a set period of time. The more intricate the power gem, the longer the spirit can last. Glass is the most typical component and would last the least long. But that... that only stores the potential for bringing back a magician. It... it doesn't actually bring them back." Swallowing down her fear, her nervousness and the little bit of elation holding them all together, Sonea said, "And this is where there are two ways. The first way is to charge the gem with constant energy. Enough energy must be poured into the gem to give the intended spirit a way to access the physical realm. The amount of energy needed is enormous which, Akkarin notes, is why it was only reserved for times of great need." Seeing Balkan's eyes widen, imagining Dannyl's look must the same, she sighed, " Then there is the second way." Having a hard time keeping her voice level, she took a few deep breaths. No one rushed her.

When she was ready, Sonea said, "The... the second way." Another deep breath escaped. "The second way is very simple and requires almost no power. A magician or... potential magician must," she gulped, not daring to look at any of the three now, "Sacrifice him or herself so that the intended spirit may reform their physical, living body into a vessel for the new soul. In... in order for it to be successful, the sacrificial magician must be nearly as powerful as the original magician. Usually, it was one of their descendants because magic tended to breed into bloodlines." Wringing her hands, she closed the book in front of her and laid down a large, blood-red ruby in front of them. The gem glowed with a brilliance that had nothing to do with the nearby lamp. "This is Akkarin's power gem."

As three gasps escaped sharply into the air around her, Sonea couldn't help but feel relieved in a small way. She had done her part of the deal, hadn't she? Would Akkarin's spirit leave her in peace now that the Guild knew what he had done? Questions flitted around in her brain faster than she could find answers for them. When she finally looked up at the trio of men around her, Sonea almost laughed. The expressions on their faces were so comical. Balkan looked like he'd been kicked in the head by a reber. Dannyl was opening and closing his mouth like a fish tossed onto land and Takan, Takan was staring straight at her with a look of complete incredulity. "I'm afraid that's all I can tell you, High Lord."

Several moments of silence passed before Balkan swallowed hard and smoothed out some imaginary wrinkles on the sleeves of his robes. "Sonea," he began, hesitant to gaze at her clutching the book tightly in her hand. His eyes avoided the gem altogether. "I don't know what to say. I..." He looked to Dannyl, who shrugged, and returned his attention to her. "You realize we have no reason to trust this knowledge. We don't even have a reason to use it... We..." Spreading his hands in a way that meant the entire guild, he added, "This is a heavy weight," then fell silent.

Shock hit Sonea like a bucket of chill water. No reason to trust? No reason to use it? She had expected resistance but not outright denial. Her mind reeled and she stood up, planting the book on the table with an audible thud in the deathly silent room. "No reason? No reason?!" her voice was quiet, with a harsh edge. "You remember what I said earlier, High Lord. You didn't trust Akkarin the first time and look where that got us." She punctuated her former guardian's name hard. "He's sent us a letter, through Dannyl, that said we would need him. You have an entire city, a court of nobles, a king and guild all worried about another Invasion and you..." she paused, breathing slowly to calm herself and finding it not help, "You would tell me that there is no reason." Licking her lips, she stepped away from the table and pushed her chair in, picking up the book and clutching it tightly. Her eyes bored into Balkan and, though he shrank visibly from her gaze, she did not care. "I only hope you live to regret that decision."

Without waiting, Sonea turned and fled the room, still holding the book closely to her, rage burning in her chest. Startled shouts and loud mental calls vied for her attention, asking her, ordering her to pause but she did not. Anger warred with the hope she had felt and the sadness, knowing a solution stood before them and knowing she was the only one willing to sacrifice. She was the only one now. As Akkarin had been. Grief hit her in the gut, angry grief and she ran then, down the hallway, down the stairs, past her old room and through the entry hall before she even knew where she was or where she might go. Stopping just outside the door to the Residence, slamming it closed with a barely-satisfying huff, she realized her escort had been left behind but also found she did not care. She continued on to her quarters alone, holding one hand over the hidden pendant and cradling the book to her chest in doing so. It was all she had to go by and she would not let it go. Sonea had thought she could let this go and knew, now, that she could not. He would not let her go until she had seen her destiny through to the utter end. In some small way, that made her feel a small bit better and on she ran as a plan took shape, slowly, in her head.

Perhaps she could act where they would not. Before it was too late.